Witness
by lilyflowr33
Summary: Logan Reese. Dead. James Garrett. Dead. Dana Cruz. Dead. But are they really?


**(A/N):** I'm under the process of creating more one-shots and editing _If You Can't Take the Heat_. So be on the lookout for those, but for now, reading and reviewing this would be awesome.

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Zoey 101, or any other shows or material that is allusioned to in this story.

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"You can't expect me to actually look at that, do you?"

The detective grinded his teeth and said, "Miss Cruz, I expect you to look at it, stare at it, and engrain the picture in your mind, because that could happen to you. All we need is for you to look at the pictures and tell us anything you notice about them."

Dana crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. "Absolutely not," she replied back to him, pushing the manila folder back to the other side of the table. "I don't even have a lawyer."

The detective was frustrated. He had been sitting here in the questioning room with this fifteen year old girl for the past hour, and she was giving him a hell of a headache. The sooner his superiors got her out of his hands, the happier he would be. "Look, okay? It's been a week. I can't turn back time and protect anything from happening to your friend, but I can do my best to keep you safe."

Dana's eyes flared as she stood up and roughly pressed her hands on the table in front of her. "He was not my friend!" she yelled.

The two remained in that position for a while, eye to eye, just breathing. Then, Dana sat back down in her chair, crossed her arms against her chest, and said, "Okay. Give me the folder."

The detective let out a breath of relief and handed her the pictures. "Just tell us what you remember from the incident, alright?" His hand moved to a device sitting in the middle of the table. He pressed a button on it. "Speak loudly, so the recording will pick it up. Now tell me, can you identify the victim in those shots?"

Dana sighed and opened the folder. Her eyebrows knitted. She hated this. "Uhh, yeah," she said. "That's Logan Reese."

---

It was weird for Dana to watch her own funeral. She should have told Zoey how much she hated roses. And now they were all over her grave. Dammit.

Dana adjusted the baseball cap over her newly strawberry blond head. She would have killed Logan for this if he wasn't already unconscious in the hospital. He'd been in a coma all week and it didn't look good. But at least there, he was safe. There, at least, no one could try and get at him again.

"Do you want to go now, Mallory?" a voice behind her said.

She seethed through her teeth. "Please don't call me that yet." She turned around to face an unmarked white van and the woman in the driver's seat. Dana's mind began to yell at her. _The real Dana Cruz wouldn't have said please. Maybe you really are Mallory Ryan now,_ it screamed at her. She ignored it.

"You have to get used to it sometime. Now get in the back. We have to get going," the woman replied.

Dana walked around to the back of the van and entered quickly. "Gee, thanks for the sensitivity, Lauren. I'm really feeling the love here."

Lauren, the driver, turned to face her. "It's Agent Mason."

Dana sneered back. "Then it's Dana."

One of the men that was sitting at the high tech computers in the back of van looked at her. "She's right though, Dana. You have to get used to the name."

The van lurched as Agent Mason started driving out of the cemetery. "Then call her Mallory, Johnson," she said.

"Right," he said smiling at Dana. "Mallory."

Dana sighed as she leaned back in the only secured seat the whole van, except for the driver's. Why did she agree to go to the mall with Logan that night? If she hadn't, she could have still been Dana Cruz, the American exchange student in France who was home for a month to visit friends. That one month ended the life of the girl that was known as Dana Cruz, and birthed the girl named Mallory Ryan. She knew there was a good reason she had always hated Reese. He killed her.

Metaphorically. But still.

He took away the only life she knew. If she hadn't had been a witness to his attempted murder (which, in her opinion, was his own damn fault), she could still be leading a normal life. She wouldn't be in the FBI's witness protection program. But the scene would forever haunt her dreams and fears. The sound of screeching tires, gunshots, and all the blood that had stained the front seat of Logan's Carrera. She couldn't get it out of her mind. And even though she hated the jerk, she wanted so badly for him to wake up, for her to talk to him again, to be able to know he was okay.

And even though she would never tell anyone that, it was her dearest wish.

---

Dana firmly stood her ground in her new home, an apartment in downtown Malibu. She would still be attending PCA, under her new identity, but there was no way she could live on campus anymore. Not only could she not stand sleeping on the same campus as the gang that was after her, but it was too much of a risk of someone recognizing after classes.

But there was no way she was going to be living in the same place as him.

"If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't be in this mess," she said, oddly calm. She just glared down the boy standing across the living room.

Lauren exhaled and rubbed her temples. "Mallory, we need to keep you both safe."

"You're ambushing me. You should have told me this before. Then I could have killed him easier. And stop calling me Mallory!"

The boy held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I don't want to be here either."

Dana snapped her fingers in front of her. "Shut up James. The only person who actually likes you anymore is Zoey and she thinks you're dead, so I wouldn't be talking." He fell silent.

"Look," Lauren said, standing between the two in the middle of the room, "You guys need to do this. Why? Because I'm the FBI and I say so. You're in the witness protection program to protect you. So deal."

Dana groaned, loudly, and stalked over to her new room and slammed the door. She could faintly hear Peter Johnson, Lauren's partner who had tried to make her feel better in the van from her "funeral", saying something about how Dana would be fine as soon as she adjusted to the situation. James replied that Peter obviously didn't know Dana. She grinned despite her anger. He was right. He obviously didn't know her.

She sat on her bed and looked around her room. The government didn't do a bad job with it. Apparently there was a file out there somewhere especially dedicated to her, because she actually liked the room. Painted red, it was decorated with all her favorite things, like posters of her favorite bands, a PCA pennant, and a Dell laptop sitting on the desk. But what surprised her most were the pictures opposite her bed. She got up to inspect them. Some of them were of her at PCA. They were pictures that Michael had placed in her casket at the memorial. She knew he had, because she had attended her memorial disguised as her own cousin. Not that anyone noticed. Her own family died long before Dana did. It was lucky both her parents were only children, the FBI said, or else they would have had to place her family in protective care too. Dana scoffed at the memory. Yeah, she was extremely lucky her dad had died in the naval force and her mom of cancer.

There was one of her and Logan that caught her eye. It was before she left for France. It was one of the rare times they were civil. It was at Sushi Rox, in black and white. She smiled at the memory, but then frowned. _Kid shouldn't have gotten in the middle of things, _she thought. _Now he's in some government hospital unconscious and I'm stuck here, with Jamesy boy and Agents Stabler and Benson_. She laughed at her own joke, but then felt silly laughing alone.

She kept looking at the pictures until she came to the one right by her bay window overlooking the California coast. She gasped and touched the glass gently. A family stared out at her from behind the frame. It was of a husband and wife, sitting of the steps of a Manhattan apartment holding a toddler girl with curly brown hair and large eyes.

"We found it in your mother's safety deposit box in New York and thought you'd want it," Dana heard Lauren's voice come from the door.

She faced her and managed to choke out a thank you. Dana couldn't remember the last time she felt so vulnerable. She hadn't seen a picture of her parents in years and was actually afraid of forgetting their faces.

"I'm sorry that there's no other way, Dana," Lauren said to her.

Dana turned to the window again to hide her impending tears. "Yeah, I'm sorry too, Agent Mason."

---

"It says here that on the night of Dana, Logan, and James'," Michael spat out the last name viciously as Zoey narrowed her eyes at him, "deaths, the notorious PCA gang "Stingers" were carrying out a drug deal in a parking lot by the beach when James walked in on them. He would have been killed right out if Logan and Dana hadn't pulled into the parking lot at the right time." Quinn, Mark, Michael, Lola, Zoey, and Chase, who had come to PCA with Dana from Europe to visit, were sitting around a table on PCA's quad.

"Now they're all dead," Lola wailed and began to sob at the lunch table. No one in the quad dared even look at them as Lola's sobs filled the air. They all knew that they had been the closest to those three and were almost afraid to approach them.

"I should have gone with them," Chase said softly. Logan had asked if Chase and Dana had wanted to go to the mall, but Chase had said no. And now he was grieving over it.

Zoey said to him, "Chase, you've been saying that for the past week. There's nothing you could have done about it. If you had gone, you would have been killed too."

Chase's eyes flicked up at Zoey. "It's not like you care."

"What do you mean? Of course I care. Three of our closest friends are gone, Chase."

Chase stood up, pushing over the chair in the process. "No, Zoey. Two of my closest friends are dead. Only two." He turned around and picked up the chair. "And I don't even know what happened to my best friend." He turned around once more before saying, "And Dana hated roses, FYI."

As Chase walked away, Zoey opened her mouth, as to speak, but Quinn placed her hands on Zoey's shoulder. "I wouldn't," was all she said before she picked up her bag and walked away with Mark.

Michael stared at Zoey with concern, while Lola was using a tissue to wipe the tears off her face. "I guess I'll just put the paper away."

Zoey placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "No, keep reading. I want to know what happened."

Michael paused, but opened the paper again and began to explain to Zoey and Lola. "Well, it says here that they walked in on the drug deal. I guess the gang didn't want any witnesses because, well…"

"They killed them. It's alright Michael, say it."

Zoey, Lola, and Michael turned around in shock. "Nicole?"

The brunette smiled sweetly and sat down at the table. "Hey."

Zoey looked at her. "What are you doing here?" she asked as Lola enveloped Nicole in a large and bone-crushing hug.

She gestured to the newspaper. "I read the article online." Lola was still hugging her and Nicole was beginning to look uncomfortable.

Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "You missed the funerals."

Nicole pursed her lips as Lola finally let go of her. She handed her a packet of tissues and Lola blew her nose loudly in response. "It's a long trip from Kansas."

Zoey stared at her old friend in disbelief. "Why aren't you rambling?"

Nicole looked up from her lap where she had been staring. "Excuse me?"

Zoey shook her head. "You used to talk forever."

Laughing, Nicole said, "Well, when you go to a shrink every other day for OMGD, you change." She looked at Michael. "Keep reading."

Michael shrugged and looked at the paper again. "So, they shot Logan first, he had tried to stop the whole thing, and he fell through the windshield of his car upon impact and died on the front seat. Then they shot James and Dana. The police got the gang leader and arrested him at the 7-11 down the street, but they fear that the gang members are going to try and retaliate to get their leader back. So they're asking students who know anything to,"

Zoey interrupted him. "I didn't even know PCA had gangs." Nicole stifled a laugh and Zoey glared at her. "What?" she asked harshly.

Nicole looked around the table. "Well," she said honestly, "even I knew that. Dana almost considered joining the Stingers back in our first year."

Michael agreed. "I remember trying to talk her out of it. Every school has its flaws Zo. Nothing's perfect."

Lola blew her nose again.

"Dana," Zoey said, "wanted to what?"

Nicole placed a reassuring hand on Zoey's arm. "She didn't, you know. Logan finally got her."

"Logan!"

Nicole shrugged. "Yeah, well, he showed her his scar."

"What scar!" Zoey was in disbelief.

"The scar he got from the fight," Lola said softly, her eyes downcast.

Zoey looked at Michael and Nicole. "Am I the only one who doesn't know what's going on here?"

Michael shifted uncomfortably, but answered her. "In the year before girls came to PCA, Logan got in a fight over a public school girl with the gang leader. He got cut in his side. Nothing big, just had to get stitches. Chase and I took him to the hospital outside of campus because if we took him to the infirmary, we would have gotten hurt too. The gang likes to keep a low profile and we would have ratted them out if the infirmary knew. The girl moved to Colorado after that and we thought everything was over." He sighed. "I guess it wasn't."

Zoey stared out into the quad. "Why didn't I know?"

Nicole stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I think they better question is, why didn't you ask?" She looked around the quad. "I hear Chase is here."

Michael nodded. "He just stormed off." He threw a glance at Zoey, but she didn't react to the statement.

Nicole pursed her lips. "I'm going to find him. Bye guys."

Lola stood up hastily. "I'm coming with you." The two girls walked away.

Zoey leaned back into her chair. "I can't believe it."

Michael leaned back as well. "I think the worse part is that the gang is still loose and they want their leader back."

Zoey looked at Michael. "And they don't have any living witness to testify against him in court." She was on the verge of tears. "What's going to happen now?"

Michael reassuringly placed his arm around Zoey's shoulders. "We wait. And hope that everything turns out okay."

---

Dana looked over her new self in the mirror of her room. "I can do this. I can do this," she repeated to herself. Her blond hair fell straight down her shoulders. Her curly hair she had prior was way too recognizable for her to have anymore. She wore green contacts and was forbidden from ever wearing black again.

"Nice skirt," James' voice came from her door.

Annoyed, she turned around. "I hate skirts. Now shut up." She reached for her messenger bag. She was wearing a white jean skirt and green polo. Lauren had picked out the outfit for her. And she hated it.

"Why are you so mean?" James asked.

Dana narrowed her eyes at him. "Maybe because you made Logan's life a living hell. What is your problem? That was _my job_." She huffed, "And seriously, I know he is a jerk, but cameras in the bathroom? What are you, insane? No one wants to see that."

"He started a rumor about me and Zoey!" James said in defense.

"Which turned out to be true, didn't it?" Dana pushed her way past him. "You manage to ruin two of my closest friends lives in one day. Brilliant."

"I thought you said Logan wasn't your friend."

"Shut up!"

Dana walked into the kitchen where Peter was making breakfast. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're making bacon? Really?" She looked over at Lauren who was drinking orange juice and reading the newspaper. "So he's never been out in the field and is single?"

Lauren snorted the juice back into the cup while Peter stood dumbfounded. "How do you know that?"

Dana set her bag down and headed for the pantry for cereal. "There is never anytime for breakfast when you work in the force. My dad used to tell me that," Dana answered as she went for the milk. "And I don't know any girl that cares about her body that eats bacon anymore." She thought about it for a moment. "Not true. But most girls. That and I don't like bacon."

"Duly noted," Peter said as he turned off the stove.

James rushed in the room. "Wait, no! I like bacon."

Dana sat opposite Lauren at the table while she poured her Fruit Loops. Lauren pushed the front page of the paper. "Look."

Dana picked up the paper and sighed at the headlining article, titled, "**Gang Violence at Boarding School**" with the three school pictures of her, Logan, and James.

"Cool," James said as he sat next to her to eat. "We made the front page."

"No, not cool," Dana said in reply. "That means everyone will be talking about it today at school. God it's been a week." She pushed the paper back to Lauren. "I can't look at this." Peter stared down at Dana as he sat down to eat. "What? And since when did everyone start eating breakfast together? This is so no normal American behavior. Shouldn't we be getting ready for school? We're going to be late in ten minutes."

Peter waved his hand in annoyance. "Don't worry about it. The clocks are an hour fast." James and Dana looked at him with bewildered faces. Even Lauren looked confused. "What?" he said defensively, "My dad used to do it to me and my brothers on the first day of school. To wake us up."

Dana shook her head. "You mean that it's 6:30?"

Peter nodded. "Oh and by the way, you can't wear that ring."

Dana looked down at her hand. "Yes I can. It's mine."

"Oh he's right Dana," Lauren said, "It's too recognizable. You've worn that everyday as Dana Cruz but Mallory Ryan has never seen that ring before in her life."

Dana looked down at her hand while everyone was still eating. "But," she said softly, "it was my mom's wedding ring."

Peter and Lauren exchanged glances but stayed silent. James looked up at Dana and said, "One second, okay?" He got up from the table and ran into his bedroom. He came back with a string of leather. "May I have the ring?" Dana looked at him strangely. "Trust me." She handed it over, and he strung the ring onto the leather, then tied it together, handing it to her.

"What do you want me to do with this?" she asked.

"Wear it like a necklace," James replied, "Like Zoey does with her key."

Dana stared down at his makeshift necklace and said, "Wow, James, that's not too stupid." She looked up and said, "Thanks, actually."

He shrugged and went back to his bacon. "No problem. I can't imagine what it would be like, you know, parents-wise, for you."

She managed a small smile to thank him for the one small, decent thing he had done since she had met him. She lifted the necklace over her head and it hung from her neck. "Can I wear it like this?" she asked the agents.

They looked at each other. "I guess," Lauren said, "That's okay."

Dana smiled down at the ring. "Cool."

---

"Hi, I'm Jake Ryan. I'm a transfer student," James told the secretary in the admissions office. She gave him a confused look, but began to search through the data base for his schedule and welcome papers. Dana simply rolled her eyes from next to him.

"I still can't believe you chose that name," she whispered to him.

He smiled. "Genius, right?"

"Only if you're obsessed with _16 Candles_," she said.

James laughed. "Idiot, Jake Ryan's from _Hannah Montana_. Duh."

Dana gave him her _I Can't Believe How Stupid You Are _look right before the secretary handed him his papers.

"Here you go Mr.," the secretary paused and glanced at Dana, "Ryan."

James smiled back at her, "Thank you, ma'am."

Dana rolled her eyes again as she dragged James out of the office and into the courtyard. "You're an idiot."

James grinned and his eyes sparked with life from behind his dyed black hair. "Uh huh, sure."

Dana looked at him before saying, "Just don't blow our cover, alright?"

James gave her his pinky finger. "Pinky promise?"

Dana groaned. "Ugh my god, you are so 2nd grade." She looked down at her schedule that she had gotten right before "Jake Ryan" had gotten his. "give me your schedule."

"What?"

"Just do it."

"God, fine."

Dana compared the two pieces of paper. "Thank God."

"What?" James said peering over her shoulder.

Dana handed him his schedule back as she began walking away from him. "I only have half of my classes with you. Lauren," she said glancing back at the parking lot where her "parents" had dropped them off. Of course, she was 17 and could drive, and since Agents Johnson and Mason do have jobs, the government provided her and James with a car to get home with. In fact, it was a Mercury Hybrid, but it wasn't going to be dropped off in the parking lot until noon. And, they wanted to create the "perfect family" atmosphere the morning at school, to avoid suspicion. All it got Dana was weird looks from the students.

"Wait, Dan-"

"Mallory, my name is Mallory."

"_Mallory_, then," James said as he caught up to her. He grabbed her arm and sat her down on a bench in the quad. "We have to go through this checklist Peter gave me."

Dana glared at him. "We don't have to do anything."

James sighed. "Please?"

"Fine," Dana sighed.

"Alright," James said, "Now, tell me your name, hometown, and birthdate."

Dana looked up the sky and rambled off, "My name is Mallory Ryan, I'm from Toronto, Canada, and I was born on March 2nd." She looked at James. "And you?"

"I'm Jake Ryan," James flashed a smile, which Dana only rolled her eyes at, "I'm from Toronto, Canada, and I was also born on March 2nd." He nudged her arm. "Twins."

Dana sighed and flung her head into her hands. "What the hell, this is never going to work, we don't even look alike!"

James patted her back apprehensively. "Don't worry, we're fraternal, remember?"

Dana sat up and glared at him before muttering a string of incomprehensive French swear words in his face while walking away.

James ran after her, "Mallory, where are you going?"

"Homeroom, Jake," she said as she grabbed his arm. "Let's go little brother."

"Hey! Who made you first born?"


End file.
